


Between The Sky's Grasp

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Complicated Relationships, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Developing Relationship, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Introspection, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22151518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: He's given an impossible assignment as an idol, so he partakes in a dangerous experiment. Idols are meant to be open, but unreachable.It's just unfortunate then that Komaeda Nagito, a fan of his, is someone he ended up drawn to.(Written for the KomaHina Secret Exchange.)
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	Between The Sky's Grasp

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad because I think my exchangee would've preferred something fluffy but this idea is what I ended up with. I have a weird relationship with idols since my love of music (and cute girls) means I love them but also idol culture is, uh, noooooot great? It's terrible in ways that really get to me so I ended up somewhat exploring that, here. It's not super dark, but yeah it's not light-hearted either.
> 
> I was also given a request related to the Halloween-themed Sweets Paradise DR X Illustrator Cafe Collab Designs and I ended up just throwing that in because...that's what my brain told me to do. It seemed like a good idea at the time. This another one of those weird fics of mine that are...hmm. If I had to pick a word, I'd go with foggy.
> 
> Ironic, considering some of the motifs. :>

The song playing is one of his own. Someone hums along as they shift through CDs. With a restrained squeal, that person finds what they are looking for—and Kamukura recognizes the cover immediately. It’s his latest single.

“They have it after all!” is exclaimed. “How lucky!”

“So, you are a fan?” Kamukura asks softly and coolly. The other jumps, cheeks pinking as they twirl on their heel to face him. With that pallor and snow-white hair, the red of their blush stood out significantly. “I could not help but overhear.”

“I-I, um—yes!” They seem to be having trouble meeting his gaze. If Kamukura Izuru wasn’t already confident in his disguise masking his features, any remaining concerns would have been waived from just how uncomfortable and anxious the other was when being addressed. “I’m sorry, was I being too loud? When I get excited—I hear I can go a bit overboard, aha.”

“It is alright,” he said simply. “I spoke up due to being curious about you.”

“Are you a fan of Kamukura Izuru, too?” There’s a flicker within that gaze, though the fan’s eyes remain modestly diverted. “I collected everything of his—even the stage musicals. Even now hearing his voice puts my heart at ease.”

_He’s infatuated. How boring._ Kamukura clicked his tongue, remembering his manager’s words. _I should still press further._

“There are other rising stars growing considerably in popularity.” _Because they are more human. Because they put forth more emotion. Emotion which makes up for the lack of talent._ “Kamukura Izuru being overthrown may be inevitable.”

“I-I definitely don’t believe that! Kamukura-kun’s incredibly talented and his voice is indescribably striking!” the other protested. “There’s no one else like him!”

_Talented. All I really have is talent. This fan has provided me with nothing else. How boring._

“True. I suppose he is one of a kind. Just like anyone else.”

“You’re quite rude, you know,” the other pointed out irritably. “And I thought my social skills were poor. What bad luck. But I suppose I should’ve expected it.” With a pause, he gives the CD a fond smile before pushing past Kamukura. “Excuse me.”

“What is your name?”

“My name?” They paused, lips pursing. “Komaeda Nagito. What of it? I’d rather not continue to associate with you.”

Kamukura’s lips twisted at the irony. 

_How interesting. How will you react, then?_

“That is a shame. I would prefer to continue our interactions, then, even if you already detest me.”

“Haaah? Why? Are you a masochist?” Komaeda’s head tilted. “What’s your name?”

“Hinata Hajime.” The lie slips off his tongue with ease. “Allow me to treat you to dinner. As an apology for my...poor social skills, I suppose.”

Komaeda blinks at him, eyes wide for a moment. The invitation left him baffled and mulling over it, and Kamukura could tell he was too taken aback to immediately say no.

“I insist,” he pressed. “I really would like to apologize.”

_Even if I truly do not care._

Komaeda finally shrugged.

“If this ends with you stabbing me in an alleyway, I would still turn out alright. So why not? Oh, but, if this is an elaborate ploy to mug me, I’ll give you money here and now if you want. Um.” He waved the CD. “After I buy this. May I at least keep this?”

**_Huh._ **

“I have no plans to steal from you. Or to stab you.”

“If you say so...if you lied, that’ll reflect worse on you than on me.”

_This fanatic—is actually peculiar as a person._

Interest flared in Kamukura’s gut, his heart picking up at the realization. It was an odd, almost overblown reaction—but it was one that drove him forward in a way he’d never experienced before.

_Is this love at first sight? Or mere excitement?_

His manager would be so shocked to hear of this, and that did bring a smile to Kamukura Izuru’s face.

“I’m not lying. Purchase your find and we shall leave together.”

Komaeda nodded.

“Okay, Hinata-kun.”

_I can’t help but hope this feeling will **fester**._

* * *

“Tell me about yourself, Komaeda Nagito.”

“Demanding off the bat. How comforting,” Komaeda remarked with wry sarcasm as he sipped at his soda. “Um. I guess I’m a college drop out. I’m looking to get back into class but there have been—difficulties. I don’t have a job but I get by on inheritance. I have no outstanding features or abilities. Except I guess I’m good at cleaning. Maybe I should get a custodial job, then?” He begins to more muse to himself. “I have no need for money, though. I’m utterly aimless.”

“Interesting,” Kamukura replied. “You contribute nothing to society.”

“Yep!” Komaeda chirped. “I’m a total waste of space! I do try to help out other people who are much more worthwhile and capable but I tend to mess that up a lot, too. I really have nothing going for me except ridiculous luck, probably. The fact that I’m alive in spite of my many shortcomings and flaws must count for something. Haha.” A pause. “Although maybe a custodial job would be good for me after all...but I worry about making a bigger mess than I can clean up...”

_Someone this useless should definitely evoke a number of emotions. Exasperation. Frustration. Disgust. Contempt. Pity. Such emotions could be applied to a song. I doubt this is what the manager had intended, however._

“You’re just listening to me ramble,” Komaeda observed, head tilted. “Don’t you have anything better to do, Hinata-kun?”

“No, I do not.”

“Oh. Okay.” He sips more of his water, quiet and contemplative. Likely still confused by this turn of events. Kamukura considered, for a moment, about informing him of the truth—but to shift that look of pondering curiosity into fervent fanaticism had little appeal. Especially when Komaeda met his stare, and those wide gray-greens narrowed. “So, what about Hinata-kun?”

“You want to know about myself?” Quirking an eyebrow, Kamukura pressed his elbow against the table as he leaned into his hand. A gesture made only because of the seeming appropriateness of it. “I am much like yourself. Directionless. Aimless. There is little to discuss.”

“Oh. I see.” Komaeda frowned. “Is this a social experiment?”

“Yes, it is. Quite perspective, aren’t you.”

“Ah, my luck would put me in this kind of situation, wouldn’t it,” Komaeda murmured. “Now is this good luck or bad luck? I wonder what to expect.”

_Expect?_

Kamukura did straighten at that.

“Komaeda Nagito. What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Komaeda cheerfully brushed him off. “It doesn’t concern you, Hinata-kun, if you really are just some nobody experimenting.”

Kamukura frowned. He couldn’t help but feel— _frustrated_ at such a response, but he said nothing more as no response felt appropriate.

Their food was set out by the friendly waitress, who predictably smiled when Komaeda cheerfully thanked her. With a nod and the typical boring platitudes, she was off. Kamukura paid her no further mind. Instead he focused on Komaeda, humming as he bit into a slice of toast.

“It is unusual that you ordered breakfast food for lunch,” Kamukura remarked. “Perhaps that is a mere preference.”

“It’s not that strange,” Komaeda said through a mouthful of toast. “Quite a few people are like that.”

“I suppose.” He began to cut his meal into perfect pieces, each the same size. When he brought one to his mouth, it was with elegance. Not a drop out of place.

“The way you eat is much more unusual,” Komaeda pointed out. “But, I guess it’s endearing.” He softly chuckles into his hand. “Is this your first time on a date?”

“Could you tell?” Kamukura asked dryly. Komaeda laughs again.

“I-I’ve never been on a date before either and yet somehow I could still tell, haha!” Komaeda Nagito ends up coughing a few times, having to down more of his drink so that he could breathe. His cheeks are flushed from the exertion, and he clears his throat while avoiding the other’s gaze. Despite that, his lips are still curved upwards and it’s—certainly a sight.

“How would you say this is going?” Kamukura asked, less dry than before. “Would you care for a revisit?”

“What kind of wording is that?” Komaeda snorted, covering his mouth. Another muffled string of giggles. “I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t mean to laugh so much, it’s just...it’s just...!”

_People laugh for all kinds of reasons. Mirth. Humor. Embarrassment. Disbelief. Misery. Although I have never laughed at all. Another aspect that others find unnerving. Inhuman._

“Another date,” he found himself saying. “After this one.”

“M-Mmm...” Finishing the rest of his drink, Komaeda’s eyes were wide and inquisitive. “Okay. If you’re going to demand with such a scary face.”

Kamukura nods, eyes intent and intense and yet Komaeda smiles without a care.

_Oh._

**_Oh._ **

Komaeda’s smile is bright.

* * *

“Yooo, Kamukuraaaa! Heeeey!”

Kamukura pointedly ignores the calls in lieu of staring out a window, out at the clouds.

“Hey, heeeeeey!!”

Rather obnoxiously, he can see the caller reflected in the window glass. A wide smile—but not like Komaeda Nagito’s. Not like his at all. Komaeda wasn’t so outstanding with his appearance and force of personality. Kamukura stares at his own reflection, at his own features that have been called striking many a times.

“Enoshima-san!” someone else calls, firm yet friendly. “Kamukura-kun seems busy. How about I show you around elsewhere?”

“Urgh, laaaaame! But would you really do that, Maizono-san? Aww, such a doll!”

That Enoshima is finally led away, and Kamukura lets his eyes flutter. He can’t see Maizono’s expression in the window, but he has observed her enough times.

“You do seem pretty deep in thought, Izuru-kun,” is remarked by another presence. The more mild-mannered man who likely kept his head down when entering rooms, although he too, had a particular smile. One that was likely as weathered into his face as the early wrinkles despite an arguable youth. “Have you been thinking about what I suggested?”

“Go out more, have more experiences, you may find the world more beautiful,” Kamukura droned, ever unimpressed. “Truth be told, those suggestions were too vague to be helpful.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” the other apologizes, smile pitiful. Again, Kamukura thinks of Komaeda. “But, for what it’s worth—you do seem to be in a better mood than usual. Has something happened after all?”

“You could say that,” Kamukura spoke more to the window, eyes more entranced by the overcast clouds floating above, blanketing the blue sky. “Kirigiri-san, your only desire is for efficiency. The details do not matter.”

Kirigiri’s face surely twisted a bit, but that smile would still remain.

“I do worry about you as a person, Izuru-kun, not just as your manager,” he goes on to say. Kind and gentle, like any well-meaning adult. “So, when you suffer a slump, it concerns me deeper than you may think.”

_He assumes I think so shallowly of him. Even though he is, indeed, a shallow person._

“Perhaps,” Kamukura says. “The next song should be based on the sky.”

“Ah.” There’s a soft laugh from his manager. “That’s a surprisingly quaint subject for you, Izuru-kun. Head in the clouds, huh?”

_He’s a shallow, shallow man._

“Something like that, I suppose.”

_The perfect manager for an even more shallow individual such as myself._

* * *

He does not always write his own songs, because he finds he has too much and too little to say at the same time. And yet, when he finds a topic to focus on, it’s with perfect precision. Like a surgeon with a scalpel, he cuts through the ideas and meanings to delves into the core. Kirigiri had once compared his lyrics to a scholarly paper with one of those not-quite laughs. Despite the dryness of such a comparison, he had still been entranced by the song when recorded.

And yet, Kamukura Izuru could not say he felt much. Once he poured out everything, he was nothing more than a husk to be detached and left to rot. And yet, he was expected to continue. To write another song. And another.

Eventually, he is given the option to have a different songwriter—but he is told the results are less effective. Less interesting. More boring. And the brightness of the spotlights—both literal and metaphorical—are headache-inducing.

Truth be told, he’s not sure what the point of it all is. He simply remains because he has no direction.

No direction except for Komaeda Nagito, waiting by a sculpture of birds, with a couple pigeons even flocking by his feet. No aim towards anything except Komaeda meeting his stare and waving him over with a grin.

“Hinata-kun! It’s a special exhibit today!” he exclaims. “It’s the Underworld! One of the pieces is a reimagining of Orpheus and Eurydice! There’s also paintings of spirits related to Taiwanese folklore...”

“Death is our certain, its hour uncertain,” Kamukura replied, cryptic and lyrical and Komaeda’s eyes sparkled.

“I recognize the reference! Hinata-kun’s actually quite well-read! How impressive!” Komaeda gives a round of applause. “You might have well seduced me then and there! Aha, kidding, kidding!”

With a twirl on his heel, Komaeda beamed up at him.

“Come on, Hinata-kun! Let’s hurry up and go inside!”

Kamukura is well-used to simply falling in line. To being manipulated and pulled along without complaint. He follows Komaeda ever compliantly here as well—and yet.

There is something else. Something that pulls him in rather than along. Even though Komaeda is lost within the museum booklet, still rambling about the various displays and exhibits. There is a minimal amount of space between them; it is all that could be considered necessary. And yet, Kamukura contemplates being closer. Pressing his shoulder to Komaeda’s. Allowing for the tickle of those wild white curls against his cheek.

It’s different. It’s odd.

“The map says this way, Hinata-kun!”

Kamukura follows. Ever compliant.

* * *

“Y’know, one of my favorite songs from Kamukura Izuru is about death,” was said at one point. Komaeda is looking upon a depiction of the Underworld, ever taken in. “It’s a natural human curiosity—and yet, it made me feel like no other. In that moment, Kamukura Izuru could’ve had his hands around my neck with how taken I was.”

“I see.”

“Such an impassive response!” Komaeda did pout but it was good-naturedly. “Hinata-kun, you strike me as hard to please. Except you’re here with me so I wonder how true that is.”

Komaeda skipped ahead to look at more art pieces. Kamukura followed after him. It’s largely quiet, despite the humble crowd gathered and scattered about. There are some couples, but mostly it’s groups college students, taking notes and talking amongst each other about their assignments. Komaeda does glance at them as he passes by but he’s careful not to linger. He doesn’t even make a remark.

There’s laughter from the group, and Komaeda nearly trips. Kamukura catches him swiftly, and takes note of how Komaeda’s face is flushed.

“I’m sorry,” is said as his date almost slumps into his arm. “Um. I feel like—I’m suffocating, Hinata-kun. Can we go outside for a bit?”

“Mm.”

* * *

_There was a song I heard once—about a pair of children trapped in a museum. I listened to it, listened to the supposed heart in the song, and I still felt impassive. However—_

Komaeda had clung to him as they made their way outside. Komaeda was slight and frail, as if simply dropping him to the ground could shatter him. Even through his coat sleeves, he felt the chill of Komaeda’s grip sink into his skin.

He remembers his song about death. The one Komaeda had mentioned. It is then and there, he realized how shallow and vapid it was.

“Sorry, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda murmurs to him in a soft voice, one that could so easily be crumbled by the wind. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Kamukura presses him close, embraces more of that chill and softness. Komaeda stiffens but he relaxes despite his clinging grip remaining ever tight.

_How shallow and vapid have I always been?_

* * *

The words come to mind, but never with emotions behind them. There is an art, of course, to pace and cadence. To beats and melodies.

_“You really are talented, Izuru-kun.”_

He thinks of wrapping his fingers around Komaeda Nagito’s neck. The image is quick to morph, with his hands moving upwards to instead cup Komaeda Nagito’s jaw. Brushing his thumbs over Komaeda Nagito’s cheeks and lips. Komaeda Nagito’s smile without a care.

_“While you’re brilliant, you’re just—missing something.”_

Komaeda Nagito sighing, pressing into his touch. Relaxing. Smiling.

_“Why don’t you go out and just—experience the world a bit? You’ll find what you’re missing sure enough.”_

It had been a ridiculous suggestion, because he knew what his manager wanted was undefined and vague. It was ridiculous, because to ask an idol to open up more to the world was dangerous. Treacherous. One might as well welcome contempt.

Kamukura Izuru knows that idols are expected to exist within a constrained paradox. Open to everyone, available to no one. Sincere while obscuring most of their true selves. Expected to act human while seated atop an inhuman pedestal. The perfect person in turns of looks, charm, and personality—a façade that was never to be shattered lest the pieces cripple the person.

It was—boring. Uninteresting. Egregious and yet expected.

Even Kamukura Izuru, who never really saw himself as a person, recognized the folly and impossibility. Really, approaching someone in spite of the dangers was an inevitability. Fixating on them for a change of pace was expected. Logistically speaking, it could have been anyone. It didn’t have to be Komaeda Nagito.

“Whenever you’re all deep in thought like that, I can’t help but worry, Hinata-kun.”

“About what?”

“About whether or not you’ve decided to kill me!” Komaeda exclaims with such wide-eyed seriousness, Kamukura notes birds scattering from the sound.

“If you truly hold such concerns, you should worry more about your instincts of self-preservation,” Kamukura pointed out, settling on the bench, listening to the leaves rustle below and above. “You’re quite the peculiar person, Komaeda Nagito, not rejecting someone you distrust.”

“I haven’t seen a reason to reject you quite yet,” was Komaeda’s simple response. “And it’d be boring to avoid every bit of potential danger. Besides, I’m curious about you, too.”

_Curious, he says. Thus, anyone else could be in my position. In this situation. Sitting with Komaeda Nagito in the park, staring at nothing in particular._

Kamukura tugs idly at his hat, conscious now of his wig and color contacts. The disguise he wore that reflected in Komaeda’s innocent stare.

“Do you wish to know more about me?”

In that moment, the rest of the world felt disconnected. Komaeda hummed thoughtfully, and he shrugged.

“Maybe? I wouldn’t know if I’m that curious about you.”

“Have you ever been that curious about anyone?” Kamukura finds himself asking. “Your beloved idol, perhaps?”

“No way! That’s way too presumptuous! Besides.” Komaeda laughs. “We’re not on the same level at all.”

“I suppose.”

“You only suppose! So naïve, Hinata-kun!” Another laugh. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t understand at all?”

“I cannot read your mind, Komaeda Nagito.”

“No.” Komaeda pauses briefly, rubbing his lower lip with a perplexed furrow of his brows. “Ah. Maybe it’s—you don’t understand why I love Kamukura Izuru as an idol?”

“It’s because of his talent,” was the obvious answer.

“Maizono Sayaka-san is also a very talented idol and I don’t love her nearly as much,” Komaeda corrected, shaking his head. “It’s more because of his presence. Even when in the same vicinity, Kamukura Izuru feels so distant.”

_Distance is both a strength and a weakness for an idol._

“Come to think of it, Hinata-kun gives off that feeling too,” Komaeda went on. “Even when right beside you, you feel unreachable.” He leans against him. “It’s not as comforting as it is with Kamukura Izuru. If anything, I get incredibly anxious.”

Komaeda presses against him, rubbing his face into his shoulder.

“Mm... Kamukura-kun.”

His fingers trail down his arm, tugging gently at his sleeve.

“Even like this, I’m rather anxious. Shouldn’t you reassure me?”

Kamukura patted his head. Komaeda clung to him.

“Better than that.”

Kamukura kissed his forehead. Komaeda flinched, flushing quite darkly.

“W-Worse than that! Too much! Too much!” He rubs where Kamukura’s lips had been. “U-Urgh! I-I might faint, Hinata-kun...!”

Kamukura snorted softly.

“Ah!” Komaeda covers his eyes next. “Way too much! Now you’re smiling, Hinata-kun! It’s creepy!”

_Smiling?_

Kamukura stilled, impulsively wanting to feel it with his hands. He doesn’t. At least, not when Komaeda is still close to him like this. It would be—inappropriate.

“A-Ah, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda lets out a squeal when Kamukura presses him even closer, presses him into his shoulder so that it is physically impossible for Komaeda to see the expression on his face. That expression which no one else has ever seen.

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda whined. “P-People are going to stare.”

“We can go somewhere more private, then,” is the obvious remark.

“E-Eh?!”

“Somewhere like your home, Komaeda Nagito,” Kamukura says then. “Shall we go?”

“What a thing to ask... Hinata-kun, you’re so dangerous.” Komaeda laughs. “And I’ve always lived so recklessly.”

_He has no idea how this goes both ways,_ Kamukura thinks and it’s the first time it truly occurs to him. _If anyone were to know—if even Komaeda Nagito were to know... I could be destroyed so easily._

The idea was beyond exhilarating.

* * *

Komaeda lived modestly but also sparsely. While it was a comfortably-sized home, it also was minimally furnished save for shelves of books and CDs. There were a couple of trinkets, but little else décor. Kamukura slipped off his shoes, and he breathed in the smell of bleach.

“I just cleaned earlier,” Komaeda explains about seeing his nose wrinkle. “I enjoy cleaning. I might even be good at it, ehe.”

“If you cleaned any further, I wonder what would remain of this place,” Kamukura replied, shuffling after him. “Goodness, your kitchen looks completely unused.”

“I don’t use it,” Komaeda said, just a little flustered. “I don’t know how to cook. My fridge isn’t really stocked either. I typically eat out. It’s not the healthiest way to live but—it is what it is.”

“Convenience is a virtue in these bustling times.”

He runs his fingers along the various spines of books. He pauses when he notes that there’s a journal on the table. He politely ignores it as he sits.

“Sorry, I don’t have a television,” Komaeda apologizes almost meekly. “I also still need to buy a new tea kettle. Actually, all I really do when I’m home is read, write, and sleep.” He gives an almost careless shrug. “Maybe stare out the window for hours if that’s the mood.”

_I’m the same way. I know how empty such a pattern is._

“I like writing stories and song lyrics!” Komaeda exclaimed next, lighting up as he indicated the journal finally. “This is full of ideas. They’re all awful, but not having anyone to share them with is boring so feel free to read through.”

With a huff, Kamukura flipped through. Indeed, there were meager attempts at poetry, even a few mindless scribbled sketches with the skill of a toddler. One in particular, caught his eye.

“The Rotten Wolf?”

“Ah, that one’s embarrassing,” Komaeda laughed, cupping his cheek. “But what do you think of it?”

Kamukura squinted, trying to decipher the truly abysmal writing before skimming through.

_There was once a boy lost and starving in the forest. As he sulked, he was found by what seemed to be a friendly wolf. The wolf led him to his owner’s house, which was made of candy among other confectionary treats. Happy, the boy gorged himself to his heart’s content. When the witch returned however, shrouded in shadow and insulted by the insolence, that witch imprisoned the boy and snapped at the wolf._

_The boy was terrified as the wolf was ridiculed. Eventually, however, the witch had the wolf bring the boy meals meant to fatten him up. Realizing that he was going to be eaten afterwards, the boy refused to eat anything. The wolf tried to cajole him, but it was to no avail._

_The boy would then begin to cry, to the wolf’s dismay. Any attempts at comfort were ignored, even the wolf apologized frantically for putting him in this situation. After days past, the wolf was further scorned, punished, and even starved for the boy’s disobedience. The boy saw how cruel the witch was, how the witch sneered at what a pitiful monster the wolf was._

_The witch finally grew fed up with waiting and decided to throw the boy into the oven then and there. However, while preparing the oven, the wolf snapped and shoved the witch inside, shutting it and trapping the witch to their death. The boy, dazed and dizzy from his self-induced starvation, could only watch as the wolf retrieved the keys to his cage and trotted over._

_Mustering up the last bit of strength he had, the boy not only freed himself but sank to his knees in gratitude before the wolf._

_“The witch was wrong,” the boy said, running his fingers over and over through the wolf’s coarse fur. “You are not a monster, wolf.”_

_For a while, the wolf enjoyed the affection he had never known before. His tag began to wag furiously, thumping like a racing heart against the ground._

_“No,” the wolf said, for he too, was delirious and giddy and salivating. “I am a monster. But I will keep your kindness within me always. I’m sorry.”_

_And with that admission, the wolf gobbled the boy up, laughing and sobbing all the while._

Kamukura blinked once at the ending, he blinked again at the crude scribbles of what was to be assumed was a wolf tearing a boy limb from limb.

“It’s a miserable story, Komaeda Nagito.”

“I thought so, too!” Komaeda exclaimed, as if affronted. “It’s so depressing! Not hopeful at all! And, yet.” He frowned. “When I thought about the wolf taking the boy home, it didn’t sit well with me.”

“Perhaps this is a reflection, then, of a deeply held belief,” Kamukura said. “One so unpleasant that even you do not like to acknowledge it, and yet, it still resurfaces. Time. And time again.”

_That of an abused monster who takes further destruction over compassion and forgiveness. I wonder—if Komaeda Nagito learned the truth about me, what would he think? Immediate love? Reverence? Or would he be wary and afraid the way that boy should have been?_

“Aha, you sound so contemplative, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda hummed then, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did something strike you?”

Komaeda’s gaze briefly flickers between him and the open notebook. That smile waned. His lips pursed.

“What I would give to know the thoughts swimming behind that dense gaze of yours.”

_You would surely drown if you knew._

“Y’know, Kamukura Izuru’s voice is also so densely packed with meaning, regardless of the words being said,” Komaeda went on. “It was overwhelming. Suffocating. And yet, I found myself enraptured. Hinata-kun is—different from that, of course. You’re tangible for one thing.”

_An idol should not be tangible._

And yet, all the same, he took Komaeda Nagito’s frail, pale hand and held it within his own.

“So much of you is vague and indecipherable,” Komaeda went on, ducking his head with pinking cheeks. “However, you are still tangible, Hinata-kun.”

He squeezed Komaeda’s hand. It’s cold.

“I...think this is enough.” Finally, finally, he releases and pulls back, putting the appropriate distance between them. “I apologize. I may have pushed boundaries if not outright crossed them.”

“Eh?” Komaeda’s expression remains innocent if inquisitive. “Why does that matter to you now, Hinata-kun?”

_What kind of question is that? Shouldn’t the answer be obvious? Then again, Komaeda Nagito really has no self-preservation at all, does he. He allowed it to escalate to this extent, and was clearly prepared for matters to go even further. Even deeper._

“I apologize,” he found himself saying in lieu of anything else. Explanations. Confessions. He felt deeply in the wrong. How bizarre. The sudden wave of guilt was—painful. “I truly apologize.”

Komaeda frowns.

“Goodness. I really don’t understand you at all. But I guess I forgive you.”

“I used you,” he burst out with. “Are you that detached?”

“I let you use me because I didn’t care, yes,” Komaeda admits it so easily. Kamukura sees himself and it’s startling. “I thought it would be interesting, after all.”

Despite that, despite everything, Kamukura takes Komaeda’s hand and squeezes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’m sorry. I didn’t care either at first—and that was wrong of me.”

_How treacherous this is, not just for an idol but for a person._

“You’re upset, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda’s frown deepens. “I really—don’t understand.”

“One day I hope you do,” Kamukura whispered, running his thumb over Komaeda’s bony knuckles. “For now, it’s best we part. Thank you for indulging a stranger—but please, for your own sake, be more careful.”

“Aha! What are you, a parent?” Komaeda laughed without a hint of mirth. “I’m not a fan of that, even if I’m definitely going to feel a little lonelier after you leave. Please don’t forget about me when you go, Hinata-kun?”

“I won’t.”

“Oh, but if you’re going to use me to tell embarrassing stories, I’d rather you didn’t,” Komaeda went on, waving his free hand. “I’d rather just remain in your thoughts if that’s okay.”

“Very well. I—do not think I can share you with the rest of the world either way.” Kamukura inhaled. “Because, I would like to keep you safe, I’ve realized. Which is why—it is best that we part.”

“Mmm, still don’t understand but I’ll accept it all the same, I guess.” Komaeda smiled brightly. “Hinata-kun, it was nice meeting you. Oh! Should I give you a farewell present for putting up with me this long?”

Kamukura is quiet for a moment before he reaches out and ruffles Komaeda’s hair. Komaeda giggles at the gesture.

“Just your regards are enough, Nagito. Thank you. I apologize. Please—take care.”

With that, he stands. Komaeda skips after him, following him to the door.

“If I ever see you again, can you tell me more about yourself?” Komaeda asks as he retrieves his shoes. “Like, maybe your actual name, perhaps?”

_Ah. What a selfish desire on both our parts_.

“Kidding!” Komaeda chirped. “I’m not nearly as indulgent as you are!”

Kamukura hummed, not responding as he slips on his shoes and opens the door.

“Take care, Kamukura-kun.”

He immediately froze, but by the time he spun on his heel, Komaeda had already shut the door between them. And there was nothing more to it.

Nothing but to duck his head in further apology before finally going on his way.

* * *

“Ah, good morning, Kamukura-kun.”

“Good morning.” He nods politely, playing with the petals of the various flowers set in a vase. “Early as usual, Maizono Sayaka-san.”

“Haha, yes, and that’s not the only thing we have in common either,” Maizono chirps, holding up her own bouquet of lilies. “How have you been? How are things going with Kirigiri-san?”

_Always so quaint. Always with ease._

“I arrived early to give myself time to think about what to tell him, actually,” he said. “I would not be surprised if a certain someone caught wind of the ridiculous assignment that he gave me.”

“Enoshima-san might have mentioned something like that,” Maizono admitted rather sheepishly. “If you’re insecure about it, you shouldn’t worry, Kamukura-kun. Kirigiri-san’s not really expecting anything grand, I don’t think. Of course.” Brushing past him. “You’re not the type to admit to insecurity, even as part of the performance.”

“No, I am not. But. I did realize the folly of Kirigiri-san’s demands.” A pause, in both his words and Maizono’s steps. “He asked for something impossible. And something I ended up unwilling to share, anyway.”

“Ooh, how scandalous,” Maizono joked ever good-naturedly, such a practiced actress that the edge was near perfectly obfuscated by her sweet laugh and smile. “But it’s good to have some privacy from the public eye. Just be careful.” She does hesitate for a moment before smiling again. “You know how Enoshima-san is about gossip. And even Kirigiri-san can be stern. Not like his daughter, though.”

_It’s similar. The way Nagito smiles compared to this._

“It’s selfish, but I hope I see that person again,” he whispered.

“I hope so too,” Maizono said honestly. “I can already tell you’re much brighter, Kamukura-kun. Just try not to be blinding! I can’t lose to you, after all!”

With a cheerful wave and skip, Maizono fled that scene. Idly, Kamukura wondered about her, but inevitably, his mind went back to Komaeda Nagito. It’s painstakingly simple for that image to warp in various ways. From twisted and troubling—to soft and sublime.

There was a note attached to the letter he got. The handwriting is neat and fancy, nothing like Komaeda Nagito’s shaky penmanship.

_Too dizzying. Too distracting. Too blinding._

And despite that, a smile pulls at his lips despite the fact that he is still utter devoid of joy.

_There is no scientific explanation for him and what he evokes the way there is for the sky and its sensations. And even though that is absolutely illogical, Komaeda Nagito is both as consuming and as distant as that same sky. How difficult for an idol. How difficult for me._

All the same time, he thinks he would have remained in blissful yet wretched emptiness if not for him and that counts for something.

_I do want—to see his face in a crowd one day, but I’m not that selfish._

“Ah, Kamukura-kun!” Kirigiri lights up easily upon seeing him. “Ready for today already?”

“Yes,” Kamukura says, turning away even as everything about it lingered. “Of course.”

_I’m happy to have just been heard by you. I do pray I can meet you properly one day. Perhaps at the end of all of this where the sky ends and the world begins._


End file.
